


Fever

by RaiWalk



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Oops, everything is implied, i have a special corner in hell, i think, if you think it, im not sorry, it probably is, siiiiiin, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiWalk/pseuds/RaiWalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A devil with an angels' visage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever

He’s a devil. It’s the only explanation.

He drives her mad.

Angry-mad. Crazy-mad.

Lust-mad.

He’s still transformed, and that. That is a thrill that makes her knees weak, and she’d have fallen over if it wasn’t for--

His claws are so very _gentle_ as they scrape over her ribs, under her breasts. Her breath hitches and she arches her back. Into his hand, away from his heat, whichever.

He lets his pointer and thumb circle under her breast, his other hand splaying over her navel and pressing _oh so very gently_.

Her throat closes around a whimper, strangling it. He’s like a miniature sun against her back, as he presses tighter against her spine, and she feels his lips-- his _teeth_ \-- close on the nape of her neck.

She barely realizes the moan that escapes her.

A devil with an angel’s visage.

She has one hand on the headboard of her bed, and the other stretched back and clutching firmly at his hair, no doubt messing it even further than it already is.

He undulates, hand lowering to the slant of her waist, pressing her back into him. Her eyes are closed, even as she swallows and feels her very insides tremble.

He’s a supernova, melting her from the inside out even as she grasps onto him so as to not fall.

This is what unrequited love does. This is what frustration and a modicum of trust does.

She hates herself for using him. Then again, the one with the enticing clothes half off wasn’t her. His suit pooled around his thighs, the material barely complaining even as his muscles bulged with effort not to ravage her like a beast.

Every time she ghosts her hands on his legs, she can feel him holding back. Tempting her with more.

Would he ruin her if she asked? If she… gave him _permission_?

His gloves are cool as he massages her breast and presses closer still. His skin feverish hot.

He is a devil, a dragon, and he is ruining his Princess.

It’s so hot. She won’t survive this. He’s a liar. A knight wouldn’t defile a Princess. A Princess is supposed to marry a Prince.

He must be the dragon of her tower, ruining her for her Prince. She lets go of the headboard and clutches his shoulder instead, arching her back until she’s forced him back onto his haunches and she sits on his lap.

He releases a hot, wet breath against her ear, nibbling, and his fangs scrape in the loveliest of ways.

He fills her, until her breath is a puff of hot air without sound. Licks the line of her jaw, and nuzzles the side of her face until she turns, and then devours her mouth.

They’re both shivering, the air far too cool for how hot they feel.

His fever is branding her.

She’ll kill him.

_(She loves him, like a fallen angel loves their sin.)_

They writhe in the hell they’ve pulled themselves into, clinging closer lest they fall alone, and…

A devil shouldn’t fear heat like he seems to.

A devil should sear her skin and revel in it, not shudder as if he’s the one being burned.

But then again, a devil began as an angel.

He shudders against her as she tastes the salt on his lips, and it feels glorious. Like she’s not falling alone.

_(Like rain on her skin.)_


End file.
